


Grey Skies Ahead

by Lightningpelt



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 'Ben' and 'Kylo' are both used as his name, (there's backgroud stormpilot but it's very minor), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Belonging, Character Study, F/M, Force Dyad (Star Wars), Grey Side AU, Happy Ending, Moral Ambiguity, Movie: Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Political Alliances, Redeemed Ben Solo, Rey (Star Wars) is Nobody, Rey Nobody, Rey is Not a Palpatine, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22612114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightningpelt/pseuds/Lightningpelt
Summary: She took his hand—not in the name of the Light, or the Dark.They were a dyad, the embodiment of balance—an Alliance of Grey.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42
Collections: For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NiriKeehan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiriKeehan/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello NiriKeehan! Thank you for the wonderful prompt (I've honestly been itching to write a canon-divergence like it for some time), and I do hope you enjoy what I did with it~  
> I also hope you don't mind that the Knights of Ren all showed up and just... stayed. I didn't plan for them, really, but TRoS did them dirty, too. Idk if this'll end up being compliant with the last two issues of TRoKR comic as far as they're concerned, but I had fun with it. 
> 
> For everyone else, thank you for stopping by! :D

“But not to me.”

She stared at his hand—at Kylo Ren’s hand; at Ben Solo’s hand. He was frightened—looked terrified and vulnerable and _open_. She could feel his slight tremors through the Force, and she could feel his _need_.

Her parents had been nobodies. _She_ was a nobody. Rey _nobody_.

_But not to me._

She wanted to take his hand.

For a moment, Rey wasn’t in the throne room aboard the Supremacy. She was back on Jakku, alone, waiting—waiting for someone who would never come; waiting to die. Her mouth felt dry, and her stomach was hollow. Week-kneed, she dropped down to kneel in the burning sand.

_... dead in a paupers’ grave in the Jakku desert..._

Rey looked down; she saw the skeletal remains, parched and blackened by the sun, two of them, mother and father, laid beside one another in a mockery of a marital bed, an open space between them, space for someone, for no one, for their _child_ —

“Join me,” Kylo’s voice broke into the vision, and Rey looked again at his hand. She felt tears drip down her cheeks, precious moisture. She felt cornered, like the near-feral desert creature she’d once been. On Jakku, no one had friends. On Jakku, you did whatever you needed to keep living. There was no future, and there was no past. Any past anyone had was _long dead_.

His hand trembled.

“Please.”

Rey took a breath. He’d just slain Supreme Leader Snoke. They’d fought together, and she could still feel wisps of the adrenaline-high, the _ecstasy_ of having him at her back.

_Let the past die._

The past was _already_ dead, there on the floor of the throne room.

She grasped his hand, and he squeezed hers tightly. He smiled, nervously, and almost laughed but didn’t quite make it. She couldn’t bring herself to smile.

On Jakku, no one had friends. Yet, on Jakku, she’d met a runaway stormtrooper, and she’d since come to call him a friend. And Finn owed his life, his name, his very _being_ to the man he loved, the Resistance pilot Poe Dameron. And then there was General Organa, who had looked at Rey with compassion and hope, who had embraced her. There were others, too—not friends, not in Rey’s mind, but she knew they were good people. Rey had seen death on Jakku, walked past people as they expired, but this wasn’t Jakku. Jakku was now as dead to her as her parents.

“Please, Ben. Let’s bring what’s left of the rebel fleet in. Talk this through. Even if we’re going to build something new, we’ll need people. And there are a few among the rebels that have my trust.”

His face fell, and for a moment she thought he might pull away. But then he held on even tighter and pulled her to him. Despite her first reflex, she let herself be drawn in.

“Then you’ll tolerate my Knights. And Hux. Hux stays.”

“Hux?!” Rey exclaimed, horrified.

“I don’t trust him and I don’t _like_ him,” Kylo said. “But I _know_ him. And he’ll prove useful.”

Rey grimaced; General Hux made it a harder sell, and she had no idea who these “Knights” were. But she could still hear the Supremacy firing on what little remained of the rebel fleet, and so urgency made her nod. “Alright. Hux stays. And your Knights.”

Kylo Ren nodded, decisive, then squeezed her hand once more before releasing it. He darted across the room, to a com panel, and barked, “This is Kylo Ren! Call off the attack on the rebels! I want the survivors brought in _alive_!”

Rey felt a cool rush of relief. The Supremacy swooped toward the crippled rebel fleet; Rey watched as Kylo switched off the com panel. He looked perturbed, but also strangely at peace. She still sensed that determined certainty radiating from him. Her eyes drifted to Luke’s old lightsaber, clutched in Kylo’s hand. _You see, Master Skywalker? I went to him. And I_ reached him _. You were_ wrong _._ Although there was the fleeting thought, she felt no real need to attempt to relieve him of the saber, and instead walked to where his rested beside the body of a Praetorian guard. With a flick of the Force, it flew into her hand. Kylo tilted his head in question.

“You don’t mind if I borrow this? If you’re going to hang on to mine?”

Surprise flickered across Kylo’s face, and then a deep, complex amusement. “Sure,” was his reply, and he clipped her lightsaber to his hip.

“What now?” Rey asked, glancing at the poor Resistance transports now caught in tractor beams. The people aboard must be frightened and hopelessly confused.

“Someone will be here, soon... to see what’s happened...” Kylo murmured, and then tapped the com again. “Vicrul? Gather the Knights and come down to Snoke’s throne room. Quick as you can.”

Rey felt a flare of concern—these people she knew nothing about would arrive before her rebels, and her trust in Kylo Ren was still tenuous. Sensing it, he turned to her and tried for a reassuring smile. Clearly out of practice, the best he could manage looked a bit like a grimace.

“The Knights of Ren are loyal to Ren—to me,” he said. “Not to Snoke or the First Order. They’ll obey me.”

He believed what he was saying, Rey knew. But that was no reason for her to place blind trust in these so-called Knights of Ren. Perhaps, though, it could be reason to give them a chance.

In the empty throne room, a hush fell over the two of them. Ben fidgeted, clearly wanting to say something or reach out, but unable. Rey found herself in a similar fix, but eventually said, “Something new? Exactly what did you have in mind?”

“Not sure,” was Kylo’s taught reply. “Just... not this. Not only the Dark and not only the Light.”

“Grey,” Rey said, and Ben blinked.

“... Grey,” he repeated slowly, and then nodded. “That’s it.”

Six black-robbed figures entered, then; taking one look at the bodies of the guards, not to mention Supreme Leader Snoke, they hurried to Kylo. One of them brought up an arm canon and Rey tensed, but Kylo held up a hand.

“It’s under control,” he growled, and the man lowered his weapon. “Snoke is dead. The First Order is dead.”

The Knights exchanged looks and a couple of low murmurs; one stepped forward and asked, “What now, then?”

“Ren _is_ ,” Kylo said, his voice taking on an odd sense of authority. “Ren lives, and consumes, and doesn’t worry about the right and the wrong. Ren owes no allegiance.”

“Ren owes no allegiance,” the six figures echoed, in unison. Rey felt her skin prickle, an electric charge shared, through the Force, between these men. It even touched her, through her connection with Kylo Ren, and she pulled reflexively away from the foreign contact.

“The First Order is dead,” Kylo said again, “and the rebellion is subdued. Ren lives, rising with the Grey Alliance.”

“Ren lives,” the Knights murmured. “Ren rises.”

The strange aura dissipated from Kylo, then, and the trance was broken. He spoke once again as a human to his comrades, motioning to Rey. “This is Rey. She’s one with me, and as such one with Ren. She’ll lead the Grey Alliance alongside me, as my equal.” Then he glanced at Rey, his eyes almost pleading. _Was that okay?_ The question came across as clearly as though he’d spoken aloud, and Rey found herself smiling reluctantly.

“Nice to meet you.” She nodded to the Knights, who mumbled their greetings in turn. She made a concerted effort to make note of their names, despite how difficult they were to keep straight by appearance alone.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” Kylo said, motioning to the throne room. “Any idea the status of the rebel fleet?”

“The transports are being brought into one of the hangers,” said the Knight called Ushar. His thickly accented voice, as well as the anti-ox filters on his mask, made Rey think he likely wasn't human. “Their cruiser has been disabled. It won’t be able to jump to hyperspace, but we won’t be able to handle it like the transports because of its size.”

“We’ll deal with the cruiser later,” Kylo said. “See to it that everyone aboard the transports are detained, but not treated poorly.”

“Bring the individuals Poe Dameron and Finn to me, if they’re present,” Rey said, testing her own sense of authority with these warriors.

After a brief pause, Ushar nodded and said, “As you say, Mistress Rey.”

“Mistress!” she exclaimed to Kylo, under her breath, and he gave a snort of amusement.

“They’ll listen to you. To us.” He reached for her hand again, and she felt his unfettered joy—far out of proportion with the simplicity of the action. Smiling, she took his hand; some of his happiness leaked across their bond, and she accepted it as her own.

As Ushar left, with the Knight called Cardo behind him, and another man shouldered past them on the way in. Armitage Hux froze, taking in Snoke’s corpse as it was carried across the room, in two parts, by one of the Knights of Ren—Vicrul, Rey thought. Hux spun, then, and spluttered, “What’s going on here?! And who in blazes gave the order to stop the attack on the rebels?!”

“I did,” Kylo replied. Rey’s free hand twitched, itching to draw the bright red lightsaber that hummed pleasantly against her hip. She thought it looked quite a bit more intimidating than her own, and fun to wield as well.

Hux’s face twisted. “You dare to command _my_ troops? We have no leader! Our Supreme Leader is dead!”

Kylo’s hand shot out; Hux gagged, grasping at the air. Rey tried to conjure disapproval for such a clear display of Dark Side techniques, but couldn’t manage it, and eventually gave up.

“The Supreme Leader is dead,” Ben said slowly.

“Long live... the Supreme Leader...” Hux choked out, and then gasped and crumpled as Kylo released him. The Knights went about their business without acknowledging the scene.

“Inform _your_ troops that we’re receiving the rebels as prisoners,” Kylo said, approaching Hux. Rey thought that cutting Armitage Hux down might be the more merciful option, judging from his utterly wretched expression as he scrambled to his feet. “If anyone harms a single one without my direct authorization, you’ll be the one to suffer for it.”

“... As the Supreme Leader commands...” Hux ground out, slinking several steps backwards. When Kylo Ren didn’t object, he scurried off and vanished from the room.

“See? He’s unpleasant,” Kylo said, to Rey, “and nasty. He’ll be looking for any chance to kill me, now. But I know where he stands, and how he thinks. He won’t endanger himself with open decent, and the troops will listen to him.”

“Sir!” A stormtrooper entered, and Kylo Ren motioned him forward. “One of your Knights came looking—the rebel Finn, the traitor, isn’t aboard the transports. Phasma has him in one of the hangers.”

“Well have him brought here!” Kylo snapped. “Rey was _clear_ with her orders!”

“Yes Sir!” the trooper barked, and then hurried off.

“That worked well,” Rey said, with a touch of amusement. “I see why Kylo Ren is so demanding and gruff.”

“It does work well,” Ben murmured, with a shrug. Their hands were still entangled, and his fingers flexed around hers. She squeezed back.

“It’ll be alright,” Rey said, abruptly. “We’ll be alright.”

“I know...” Ben murmured. He lifted her hand; pressed his lips to her calloused knuckles. “I know.”

... ... ...

The next several hours were tense and uncertain, including negotiations with Admiral Holdo aboard the cruiser, the receiving of several dozen Resistance fighters aboard the Supremacy, and the reigning-in of a virtually rabid Captain Phasma when her captives were confiscated.

General Leia Organa kept urgently requesting an audience with the two self-proclaimed leaders of the so-called Grey Alliance, but Kylo Ren always shook his head without a word. Rey, although she knew the meeting could only be put off for so long, didn’t press the matter.

Eventually, compromises were reached. With Snoke dead, there would never be another Supreme Leader; the First Order would be officially dissolved. It would be restructured under the flag of the Grey Alliance, incorporating what remained of the Resistance. Kylo Ren and Rey of Jakku would lead this new construct, with total devotion to neither the Light nor the Dark side of the Force. Jedi and Sith extremes alike would be eschewed, and balance would be the ultimate goal.

The two young leaders of the Grey Alliance couldn’t be separated, during those first few hours—more often than not, they hung on to each other’s hand like a lifeline. Their entourage was a strange mix indeed: six imposing, black-clad Dark Side users stood side-by-side with a defective stormtrooper and a decorated Resistance pilot, and no blows were traded. General Armitage Hux came and went, concerned mostly with maintaining of his own life and title.

Formal papers were drawn up; although many things had yet to be decided, some things had to be solidified immediately. While Kylo Ren was the undisputed representative of what was once the First Order, Admiral Holdo and the other Resistance leaders were made to sign over their formal authority. Although extermination seemed to be the primary alternative, it wasn’t an easy pill to swallow, and so General Organa was, at last, sent for.

“Maybe you can just... talk to her,” Kylo said, his voice low in Rey’s ear. No one else would’ve heard him speak—the strange bond between them allowed for such private council.

“She’ll be a great ally,” Rey replied, squeezing his hand. “But it’s her _son_ she’ll support, and you know it.”

“But I’m _Dark Side_ , Rey. I’m everything she and her brother hate so much.”

“She could never hate you,” Rey soothed. “And besides, no Light or Dark anymore, remember? We’re both Grey. We're balance.”

Leia Organa was the picture of dignity when she entered their meeting chamber, though flanked by four stormtroopers and followed closely by General Hux. Her head held high, she nodded acknowledgment to Rey, quirked an eyebrow at Poe and Finn, and then spared no more attention for anyone but her son. She stared, unwavering, and said, “Ben.”

The outpouring of emotion from Kylo Ren almost knocked Rey physically off-balance, and she felt his panic like a spike of adrenaline. _Not here, not here, not in front of the Knights, not in front of Hux...!_ Although he didn’t verbalize it, she understood perfectly, she stepped forward without releasing his hand.

“General Organa," Rey said, "with respect, we’d like to speak with you alone.”

Hux’s outraged objection was immediate, and Poe’s mistrustful one sounded in harmony. But Leia nodded, and said evenly, “Lead the way, you two.”

Hope flickered in Kylo Ren like a freshly-lit match, and Rey didn’t need to pull him along. They made their way to a small office off the conference room, and Leia shut the door behind them.

Ben held it together exactly as long as it took Leia to say, “My son...” with all the tenderness and question and hope in the galaxy in those two words. He released Rey’s hand, stumbling forward as though to embrace his mother. Then he stalled, horrified, and tried to choke out an apology he couldn’t begin put into words.

Leia wrapped her arms around him, gentle but firm. He seemed to shrink, head cradled against her chest, and for a moment was a child. He gripped her, held her, wheezed and choked on a sob that he couldn’t allow to form. He sunk onto his knees, and then let his arms drop at his sides. Leia kept one hand on his head, playing lovingly with his hair, and addressed Rey.

“So. Grey Alliance.”

Rey nodded, suddenly compelled to defend their idea. “Not Light. Not Dark. Balance between the two. Ben and I would lead it. We’d like your blessing.”

“My blessing?” Leia echoed.

“The Resistance is all but defeated,” Rey said, glancing at Ben. She understood it was her role, for the moment, to be strong. “We’d be more than willing to fight, if that’s what you’d prefer. Even so newly formed, I’m sure our Alliance would make short work of your remaining forces.”

“Fight?” Leia sounded genuinely amused, now. “Boy, you kids don’t know anything about politics, do you? You think you’re just extending a mercy to us rebels? You’re wrong. A lot of the galaxy is still rooting for us. Merging our causes will make it a lot easier for your Grey Alliance to establish itself. Without my backing, you’ll have a dozen new little rebel factions spring up faster than you can say _Ewoks_. And then you’ll just turn into the First Order all over again, no choice but to crush those pesky rebels by force.”

“So you’ll help us?” Ben asked, still kneeling at her feet.

Rey found herself genuinely annoyed by the show of weakness; if Leia was to respect them, they couldn’t give the impression of groveling. “If you don’t—"

“Rey,” Leia cut in, almost gentle, certainly parental. “This isn’t Jakku. What did you expect? A fight to the death, hand to hand, right here and now? Of course I’ll help you two.”

Ben’s shoulders twitched with a sob, but he was otherwise still. Rey didn’t let herself relax.

“Pleased to hear it,” she said, keeping her voice crisp. Leia rolled her eyes.

“Let’s get to it, then,” she said, and nudged her son. Kylo Ren hauled himself to his feet, moving with none of his usual power or grace, and fell still. He wasn’t prepared to face the others, not yet, and Rey sighed with frustration. She sent her own certainty and determination flooding across their Force Bond, and saw him twitch. Leia, too, raised an eyebrow, but didn’t make comment.

“... Let’s,” Kylo said at last, and the three returned to the main conference room in time to catch the Knight Ap'lek playing peacemaker—rather, standing physically between Poe and Hux as the two faced off. Kylo barked a reprimand at Hux, who pulled obediently back, and Rey went to Poe’s side. Negotiations resumed, this time with General Organa’s input, and soon all the preliminary matters were settled.

Business had stretched far into the night, and eventually the gathering began to disperse. Hux excused himself see to the arrests of some ranking officers; General Organa went off to tend to the rebels and their immediate needs. The Knights of Ren lingered for longer; Kuruk skulked off first, followed shortly by Ushar, Cardo, and Ap'lek. Vicrul and Trudgen hung about, and at some point Vicrul and Kylo fell to a spirited—if predominantly friendly—debate on the nature of the group's dedication to the Dark Side of the Force.

Trudgen edged around Rey, his aura more curious than hostile. His inspection still grated on her enough for her to snap, "Something I can help you with?"

Trudgen started visibly. Although his mask faithfully hid his face, Rey felt his genuine surprise through the Force. Despite his hulking size and the unsettling nature of his cobbled-together helmet, she still sensed only interest from him.

"You're a scavenger?" he asked.

"I was a scavenger," she replied. "From Jakku."

"Jakku," Trudgen repeated. "Desert."

"Yes. Nothing but sand."

"I hate sand," Trudgen grumbled, and Rey almost laughed at the sheer unexpectedness of interaction.

"I'm not much of a fan, myself," she said, and then watched with cautious intrigue as Trudgen searched for something within his tabard.

"I scavenge, too," the Knight of Ren said, and Rey stiffened. She half expected him to pull out something gruesome, like finger-bones strung together on a chain, but chastised herself when he only produced a small, ornate dagger. "Things of use. Things of value. Things of interest."

"It's very nice," Rey said, unsure what she was _supposed_ to say. The Knight surprised her again by holding it out.

"Doesn't suit me," he said. "For a small, fierce scavenger, though—tucked into a boot or hidden up a sleeve. It suits you."

Although Rey's first instinct was to snatch it without question—it looked like it would sell for no small number of credits, if nothing else—she bit back on the urge and shook her head. "I couldn't. We aren't even—"

"You are of Ren," Trudgen said, and then nodded to where Kylo and Vicrul were still speaking; bickering, now, would be a better description. "Vicrul feels strongly. We have a loyalty to the Shadow. But they'll reach compromise. And we'll follow Kylo, as we have since he came to us. So you, as one with him, are one with Ren."

Rey hesitated for another moment, then took the dagger from his outstretched hand. It had a nice weight to it, and it sang with the power of the Dark Side. She felt its energy flow into her, and hers into it, and the two mingled without conflict.

"Thank you," she said, and Trudgen nodded.

“I look forward to fighting beside you.”

“Same.”

Trudgen took his leave, then, and Finn replaced him at Rey’s side. He peered critically at the dagger, but didn’t say anything as she tucked it into her belt.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, and Rey nodded.

“As sure as I’ve ever been.”

“What about Luke? What about your Jedi training?”

Rey shrugged. “Not for me, I guess. If he really is the last Jedi, that’ll suit the galaxy just fine, I think. No more Jedi. And no more Sith. The galaxy needs balance, the most—not two distinct sides caught up in some eternal struggle.”

Finn looked unsettled, but eventually nodded. Vicrul and Kylo seemed to have come to some agreement, and Vicrul offered to escort Kylo back to his quarters; Kylo declined. Poe was visibly itching to get back to the rebels, but pensively waiting for Finn.

“You coming back with us?” Finn asked, his hand resting Rey’s shoulder. "You should rest."

Although the gentle grip was reassuring, and for a moment Rey wanted to go with him, she shook her head.

Hope sparked from Ben, across their Force Bond. Hope and intrigue. _Happiness_. It didn’t show on his face, but Rey, sensing it, had a hard time not smiling as she bid farewell to Finn and Poe.

She fell into step behind Kylo Ren as he strode back towards his quarters, keeping herself unobtrusive. After a little ways, when they were sufficiently alone, she took his hand and walked beside him.

Kylo’s chambers were dim and austere, and not exactly what Rey had expected in terms of the latter. Sith lived lavishly, or so she’d heard. Indeed, Kylo Ren seemed almost apologetic as he said, “It’s not much. I’ll see about having another bed brought in, once things calm down a bit, come morning. You’ll take mine, tonight, if that’s alright?”

He seemed caught between the two personas—Kylo Ren, trying to maintain the illusion of control, and Ben Solo, hoping beyond all reasonable hope that he was doing the right thing and grasping for any scrap of reassurance. Rey softened despite herself.

“We’ll have time to worry about all that,” she said, and went to sit on the edge of his bed. “In the morning.”

 _"If I go to him, Ben Solo will turn."_ She remembered her certainty when she'd spoken to Luke, and used it to calm her anxiety now. Kylo Ren was still the one standing before her now, although he wore no mask. Yet he _had_ turned, and she, as well, had made her own choice. She had taken his hand.

"Right. In the morning." Kylo started to turn away, but Rey called him back—not verbally, but with the Force. He froze.

"The bed is plenty big. Come on. We probably won't get more than a couple hours of sleep, anyway."

Ben glanced back at her, open and vulnerable and terribly _unsure_. Rey shrugged—unfortunately for him, she hadn't any more idea what to do in such a situation than he did.

"Come on. I won't bite you," she promised, and then curled up with her back to him. His huge mattress was solid, supportive, but again lacking the plush comfort she'd expected. It was a bit of a disappointment, really.

For a moment, she thought he’d refuse. She summoned up the memory of him reaching out, offering his hand, and projected that feeling back at him. As a scavenger, a feral girl from Jakku, turning her back was a show of the utmost trust. Sleeping in his company—the offer to, at least, as she didn’t actually expect to fall asleep—even more so.

_Lie next to me. Sleep. I’ll protect your back. Rest, Ben. You must be so tired._

That got him. He was tired—profoundly so. He shuffled over, eased himself down, and then crawled into the bed beside her. Rey shifted to give him more room. Each movement careful, deliberate, he lay down and then was perfectly still.

“Ben?”

“Huh?” He didn’t object to the name, and there was some small victory there.

“I’m with you, now. From now on. You aren’t alone.”

“Neither are you,” he said. “We’ll rule together. We’ll be safe, then. And we can be together.”

 _Safe._ Rey felt her breath come easier, and her eyes shut. _From those who would manipulate you. From those who would use me. Safe from abuse. From hunger and thirst. From pain.  
_

_From loneliness,_ he added, and Rey felt his back press into hers. The tension left her, then, and she eased back into him.

Rey drifted into sleep, Ben sinking along with her, and they shared peaceful rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters will be uploaded during the next couple of days~ Thanks again for reading! ;w;


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this chapter is informed by Leia’s rumination about the New Republic (and where it went wrong) in the first couple pages of The Force Awakens novelization. It’s an enlightening little section, and I highly recommend to anyone interested in that sort of thing. 
> 
> In other news, I like my Reys a bit feral.

Making an ally, no matter how reluctant, out of Hux seemed to have been a wise decision. With General Leia Organa on the one side and General Armitage Hux on the other, Resistance and First Order troops laid down arms without much trouble.

It had been three standard months since the formation of the Grey Alliance. The higher-ups in the former First Order proved a far worse obstacle than their troops, though a good number had been taken into formal custody before they realized what was happening. But most of those who remained had independent cells of supporters, not unlike Kylo’s Knights. Many also had their own wells of resources, some finite and others near-limitless. As the Grey Alliance struggled for stability within itself, these isolated cells proved difficult to corner and capture. Skirmishes with such factions occurred with discouraging frequency, and the boots on the ground were predominantly Hux’s stormtroopers. The Knights of Ren maintained tight security around the Grey Alliance leaders, their Master Ren and Mistress Rey.

Kylo and Rey both counted themselves lucky that the Resistance had been stripped down enough to have no such splinter-groups, although some individual Resistance fighters didn’t give up the fight so easily. A few defected immediately; others stewed, mistrustful and dissatisfied, and waited for a moment to strike. General Poe Dameron had even been the target of several attempts on his life from old comrades, although the Resistance pilots rallied unanimously around him. General Finn and Rose Tico, as well, were of immense help in keeping the appearance of a united front.

An undercurrent of politics ran through it all, and that wasn’t a thing either Grey Alliance leader considered a personal strength. Luckily, building up a galactic government virtually from scratch was a thing Leia Organa had done once before, and she’d also learned from the mistakes of the past.

“Next is... Kashyyyk,” said General Organa, pointing to the holo-map. “The wookiees’ home-world. It shouldn’t be a difficult one.”

Rey squeezed Ben’s hand beneath the conference table, reminding him gently to pay attention. He sat up a bit straighter. Although he struggled to fully grasp the diplomatic side of things, he tried to afford his mother the utmost respect whenever she spoke. Rey knew he’d been up late, privately negotiating with Hux about something-or-other.

General Armitage Hux himself sat across from them, next to General Organa, showing none of the same weariness. He also, of course, had a caf habit that didn’t suit Ben’s more childlike pallet. He said, confidently, “The beasts have likely dislodged most First Order remnants, anyhow. We’ll simply have to subdue _them_.”

“Subdue isn’t the word,” Leia almost chided.

“Negotiate,” Hux drawled, with a roll of his eyes that should have gotten him a formal reprimand. Kylo Ren growled a warning, and Hux closed his mouth tightly.

Planet-by-planet was a truly tiresome way to build up the Grey Alliance, but it was also the most reliable. General Organa had learned, from the failed experiment that was the New Republic, that freedom was often an overwhelming thing—sometimes even an unwanted thing. The Grey Alliance was no benign, uninvolved presence. And it was no democracy, at least not in the traditional sense—though negotiation was encouraged and input from worlds and local governments was made welcome, the final word always belonged to the Grey Alliance’s two young leaders.

Kylo Ren, in any context, made for an imposing symbol of power. Yet the Grey Alliance’s authority wasn’t based purely in fear. Ben spoke openly about Snoke’s manipulation, and in such a way began to wriggle out from under the weighty legacy of the First Order and the role he had played within it. His reputation as Kylo Ren was also softened by the open and loving support of his mother, Leia Organa.

The second half of the Grey Alliance was a trickier matter. Rey hadn’t been that well-known, beyond the Resistance. She often identified herself as a failed student of the legendary Luke Skywalker, which brought up more questions than it answered. She spoke of Jedi teachings, but eschewed the title of Jedi. She also, for that matter, spoke of Sith teachings, but also firmly refused that mantle. She promoted, above all, balance, and in her union with Kylo Ren she embodied it.

“Mmfff-mmm-hmmf!”

Ben gave a slight smile, though still unpracticed at the expression. “Swallow. Then speak.”

Rey looked perturbed for a moment, then swallowed the food in her mouth with some amount of effort. She tore off another bite of pastry, but not enough this time to make her words indecipherable. “These are good!”

Ben’s expression eased, smile widening and softening. They sat on the couch in a small meeting room deep within the Supremacy. Rey’s face was smeared with the reddish muja fruit jelly that filled the doughnuts, but she cared little about things like that. On each planet they visited, she was fascinated by the new—new scenery, new cultures, new foods. For Ben, her joyful exploration of the galaxy made the tiresome diplomatic excursions worthwhile.

“Don’t get it in your hair...” he murmured, reaching to brush a few stray locks behind her ear. Rey snapped at his fingers with a soft, mocking growl, and Ben chuckled; he slipped two fingers into her mouth and pulled her jaw gently down. “Or get it blasted everywhere. It suits you, anyway.”

Rey licked at his fingers, then leaned forward to gnaw them lightly with her molars. But she lost interest a moment later, pulling back and replacing Ben’s fingers with more of the pastry. He grimaced at his dripping hand, and then wiped it demurely on a blanket draped over the back of the couch.

“Hux seems to have settled down a bit,” Rey said, though still speaking with her mouth full. Ben thought that his mother’s scolding would be _scathing,_ if she saw jelly dripping onto the antique gown Rey was wearing.

“I don’t trust him.” Ben unobtrusively laid a napkin across her lap. “But his best interest still lies in supporting us. So he’ll support us.”

“Do you trust Leia?”

Ben thought. He did trust his mother, more than he’d admit to anyone in the world, and more than he felt he deserved to. Through their bond, Rey understood his feelings, in all their simultaneous complexity and simplicity; he didn’t need to try to verbalize it.

“She loves you,” Rey said, and leaned forward. “She trusts you, too.”

“... Shouldn’t...” Ben grumbled, “I don’t... deserve that...” and then Rey’s sweet, jelly-smeared lips were on his.

“You do,” she mumbled, affording his mouth the same attention as she had the doughnuts. He kissed back, content to let the Force ebb and flow between them without words. His insecurities mingled with her good-humor, his pride with her appetites, his lust with her conviction. She growled again, sticky fingers tangling in his hair, and he wrapped his arms around her. He felt a seam on the priceless dress rip as he fumbled with the buttons at the back of its collar, and he wondered if that, along with the jam stains, could be blamed on Rey. Her body, pressed against his, quivered with laughter, and she whispered, “Not a chance,” against his hot mouth.

A knock at the door made them spring apart, and Ben wiped the jam hastily from his face. He rose to answer the door as Rey fixed the collar of the dress as best she could. The embarrassment rolling off Finn in waves when he entered made it clear she was only partially successful. He didn't seem unnerved by the presence of Kylo Ren at his shoulder, though, and that was something—quite something, in fact. His burgeoning Force-sensitivity helped him to feel Ben’s intentions for himself, and Rey appreciated his resulting vote of confidence.

“The wookiees are open to talking, especially because Chewie has quite a bit of sway with them,” Finn said. “Looks like Kashyyyk is going to be pretty simple.”

“We’re due for a simple one,” Kylo growled. “And I knew Chewie’d come through.”

“Wine, Finn? Doughnut?” Rey offered, with a nod to the table.

He looked regretful, but shook his head. “General Organa sent me to bring you guys up to speed, but Poe said he’ll come looking if I’m not back in ten minutes.”

Rey grimaced; it was a threat Poe had actually followed through on in times past. Unable to stop herself, Rey rose; went to Finn, and wrapped her arms around her friend. He returned the hug.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and Finn shook his head.

“He’ll come around. It just takes a bit more time, with him.”

Rey drew back and said, with a note of finality, “Ten minutes is time for a doughnut! C’mon.” She led Finn over to the couch, and Ben sat on the other end. Finn gave a weary smile, but didn’t argue further; he found the pastries, to his mild surprise, as delicious as Rey had.

They chatted about the ongoing campaign, and about the war they’d left behind. Ben relaxed and engaged as the conversation turned to the stormtrooper-reclamation project that was so dear to Finn—they’d seen substantial successes with it, and it was a source of pride and hope for all involved. When the ten minute deadline drew too near for comfort, the three of them parted amicably, and with promises to find time to share a proper drink. When they were once again alone, Ben gave a heavy sigh.

“They’ll come around,” Rey said, and sat so their hips were pressed together. "You see how Finn acts, already."

Ben gave her a wry little smirk. “All the stormtroopers loved you on day one.”

“Kuruk took a while to come around.”

Ben scoffed. “Right. And now you two trade piloting tips over Corellian brandy.”

Rey smiled; kissed him. And at once he was glad Finn hadn’t stayed, after all, humming with pleasure as she pinned him against the couch.

... ... ...

After Kashyyyk came Balamak, a small but resource-rich world. Finn informed them that it had been mentioned in lots First Order propaganda, and Hux confirmed that it could be called a First Order “stronghold” without exaggeration.

“If I were to put down credits on where that slug Enric Pryde slunk off to, this would be it,” Hux said. “Pity I’m not a betting man.”

“We all know you are, General,” Kylo said, suffering a wounded look from Hux. “That’s why you’re here now. That’s why you’re still alive.”

“See that Poe’s scouting party gets safely off,” Leia instructed, and a soldier hurried off to obey. The Supremacy dropped smoothly into orbit around Balamak, and then Leia turned. “Ben. You think we’ll need military force?”

Ben shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t know Balamak had any significance,” he admitted. “I was never that deep in the internal affairs of the First Order.”

“We will,” Hux said, with certainty. “No doubt.”

“General Dameron, are your fighters away?” Leia asked into a com.

There was a moment of static before the reply: “Yeah. We’re descending through the atmosphere now. Everything looks clear so far.”

“They probably heard we were coming, if they have any intelligence network at all,” Hux said dryly. “We haven’t been exactly _subtle_ in spreading this new Grey Alliance.”

“Deceit and subterfuge isn’t any way to instate lasting change,” Leia said—it was an old argument between the two, and Kylo shot Hux a warning look. On this subject, more traditional Light Side values had won out. Hux, though looking sour, didn’t argue further. “Poe? Your status?”

“Still all-clear, General,” Poe replied. “Got the—whoa!”

“What is it?”

“That’s a bunker, for sure," came Poe’s crackling voice. “Pretty well hidden, but not well enough.”

“Take it out!” Hux snarled, and then stiffened as the Force curled lightly around the back of his neck.

“It might be abandoned,” Rey said, and Kylo Ren nodded. “Or worse, reclaimed by Balamak’s natives. If we attack it without knowing, we’ll make negotiation that much harder.”

Leia nodded. “Poe, get us as much information as you can,” she instructed, and Hux rubbed anxiously at his neck as the Force dissipated. She turned. “General Hux, go see that we have fighter squadrons ready, _should we need them_.”

“Right away, General Organa,” he said, with a terse bow. When he’d gone, Leia turned with a put-upon sigh.

“Which of you did that?” she asked the two Grey Alliance leaders, sounding for all the galaxy like any weary parent. “I don’t like to see Dark Side techniques on the command bridge.”

Though she had no military authority over either of them, neither relished her disapproval. They exchanged a nervous glance.

“Anyone going to fess up?” Leia asked, and her foot began to tap.

“To what?” Rey blurted out. “I didn’t feel anything!”

“Nothing,” Ben echoed, shifting. “Dark Side techniques? Not on the command bridge.”

“Never!” Rey swore, with a fervent shake of her head.

Leia kept her gaze severe, for a moment, then exhaled slowly. “Well, I suppose he _does_ need to be kept on a leash, anyhow...” she murmured, and then turned back to the ship’s controls. Rey gave Ben a playful nudge, and he shot her a scandalized look. “You two best get down to the hanger. Regardless of what Poe reports back, you’ll likely be headed down onto the planet soon.”

“Of course,” Ben said, and then grabbed Rey’s hand as they left the bridge. She tugged playfully, as if to break his hold, but the attempt wasn’t in earnest. Once they were in the turbolift, Ben dragged her closer by their tangled hands. “Really? And after I covered for you back there?”

“You?” Rey asked, affronted. She twisted his wrist and he grunted in sudden discomfort. “ _I_ was covering for _you_!”

Ben kissed her, briefly, and Rey pouted as he pulled back. Their hands were still entwined when they left the lift, though, and they approached the Millennium Falcon side by side.

“Master! Mistress!” Trudgen raised a hand, trotting across the hanger to meet them. He held his helmet loosely at his side; some of the Knights of Ren had begun to forgo masks outside of combat, just as their master had cast off his. Behind Trudgen came Vicrul—his face still concealed at all times—and Cardo, though at a slower pace. “Getting ready to head down to the planet?”

“Perfect timing,” Kylo commented. “You three can accompany us. Have Kuruk and the others standing by with the Night Buzzard, if we end up needing the backup.”

“As long as that bastard Hux isn’t along,” Cardo grumbled, and together they boarded the Falcon.

The communicator on Rey’s forearm beeped, and when she turned it on a small hologram of General Organa appeared.

“Rey. Poe’s just reported in—that bunker is definitely a First Order remnant. One of his pilots just saw some stormtroopers going in.”

“Have a squadron of stormtroopers standing by,” Ben said, sliding into the copilot’s seat. “We’ll see what we can do down there, first.”

“We’ll leave you in command of the Supremacy until we return, alright, General?” Rey asked, starting up the Falcon from the pilot’s chair.

“May the Force be with you both,” Leia said, and then the hologram fizzled out.

“We’re lucky to have her,” Rey commented.

Ben shrugged. “We’re lucky in a lot of ways,” he replied, and Han Solo’s dice rattled as the Falcon rose from the hanger floor.

Together they flew the Falcon from the Supremacy’s hanger, and as they descended through the atmosphere Poe’s fighters became visible, circling the squat bunker where it lay partially concealed by foliage.

Ben flipped a com control. “Black Squadron, it’s the Falcon. What’ve you got for us?”

There was a brief crackle, and then Poe’s curt, “This is Black One. Let me talk to Rey.”

“I’m right here, Poe,” Rey called, although she didn’t take her attention from the flight controls. Ben shot her an almost apologetic look. “What’ve you got for us?”

“At least a couple dozen troopers,” Poe reported. “I saw a death-trooper, too. I don’t think they’ve got many defensive capabilities, though—we’ve made a couple of low passes and haven’t drawn any fire.“

“Death troopers operate in squads of four or six,” Kylo Ren said. “If you saw one there’s likely more, even if the whole squad isn’t intact.”

“They know we’re here,” Poe said. “They have to. But they’re waiting for us to come down to them.”

“They’re taking a risk that we’re not going to just take them out from the air,” Kylo observed. “They’ve probably got some shield capabilities, then.”

“Or they’re banking on the fact that we won’t attack blindly,” Poe replied. “They might have prisoners, or be in some working relationship with the government of this planet. And we do risk sending the whole forest up in flames with too aggressive an assault, anyway.”

“We’ll land, then. Start with a minimal ground assault,” Kylo said, and flipped a switch on the Falcon’s ceiling. “You good with that, Rey?”

“I’d love the chance to stretch my legs,” Rey replied, and initiated the landing sequence.

“Keep in touch,” Poe said. “If you give the word, we can come in low and take it out.”

“Will do. Falcon out,” Kylo replied, and turned the com off.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been the first ones on the ground,” Rey said.

Kylo glanced at her. “Unnecessary risks,” he replied, and then called back, “Trudgen, Vicrul, Cardo—we’re going in.”

Cardo’s exclamation of “Finally!” was scarcely audible, but it made Kylo smile.

“They’re coming into a semi-circle formation,” Rey said, observing a scanner. “About a dozen troopers. Waiting for us to land.”

“Only a dozen?” Ben asked, with mock umbrage. “Don’t they even recognize the legendary Millennium Falcon?”

“They _sure_ don’t know who’s inside it,” Rey replied, and continued the landing sequence. The ship lowered itself, settling into the middle of thick foliage, an open pathway to the bunker on one side. Poe’s squad flew past overhead, then began to circle back in a watchful pattern.

“Ready?” Kylo called back, and received shouts of affirmation from the Knights. Then he bounded from the copilot’s seat, giving in to the excitement of the coming battle. Rey scrambled to his side, and he drew the blaster that hung at his hip as the Knights fell in behind them. “Let’s go, then!”

The Falcon’s ramp lowered onto the path, the bunker revealed before then. In a heartbeat, the blaster-fire began; Ben ducked and rolled down the ramp, a controlled tumble that took him into the middle of the dusty path. He slid out a foot to halt himself, though still in a low crouch, and returned fire. Cardo barrelled past him, straight into the enemy line with his arm canon blazing. Vicrul swerved sideways, carving into the enemy flanking the pathway with his scythe.

Ben remained stationary, one hand batting away blaster bolts with the Force, the other returning fire. Troopers dropped, injured or dead, one after the other. Ben’s heart leaped with the adrenaline of an honest firefight, but something almost euphoric surged in him as he felt a familiar weight land on his shoulder.

Rey _soared_ , springing up off his back, staff whirling faster than the eye could follow. She struck one trooper and then a second, carrying them both to the ground with her. She knocked the legs out from under another, then smashed a helmet open with a brutal downward swing.

“Thing of beauty, Master Ren.” Trudgen’s voice made Ben start, and he realized he’d fallen still, transfixed. Trudgen went down on one knee beside him, almost carelessly deflecting a shot aimed for Ben with his vibrocleaver.

“The Shadow thrives in her,” Vicrul confirmed, dropping to Ben’s other side. Most of the stormtroopers had fallen back or been felled, by then, and Rey was engaging those that remained with all the ferocity of a desert storm. Cardo had already advanced some ways toward the base. “Ren thrives in her.”

“In us,” Kylo Ren growled, with a fierce grin. “Let’s go.”

The five of them beat a hasty advance on the First Order bunker, even when it became clear the stormtroopers were less retreating and more regrouping for some new attack. Though Cardo maintained the lead, Rey stayed close on his heals, and Ben indulged in staring at her from behind while she ran. Trudgen chuckled, once or twice, genuine warmth and amusement in his tone.

“General Dameron’s patrol spotted a death trooper,” Rey called, when they drew nearer to the bunker. “Stay on your guard.”

“Nothing we can’t handle, Mistress Rey,” Trudgen said, jabbing a thumb at the fragment of death trooper helmet that made up the forehead of his mask.

“I think they want us to go inside,” Vicrul offered, nodding towards the open door of the bunker. The stormtroopers has vanished; there was no other sign of movement.

“Let’s take them up on the invite, then,” Rey said, and trotted forward. Ben almost objected reflexively, but then simply followed, the three Knights flanking him.

A glint in the darkness was all the warning they got—a rush of fire surged out of the unlit hallway, more than enough to engulf the intruders. But the Force, Dark and Light, turned the flame easily aside, and enemy succeeded only in illuminating itself. The flame trooper scarcely managed a cry before Vicrul’s scythe crunched through their breastplate, and the jets of flame spluttered and died moments later. Isolated spots along the hall remained alight, though, bathing the scene in an eerie, unstable flickering. Though Kylo thought he should be more naturally suited to it, it was Rey who nearly vanished among the dancing menagerie of light and shadow. Again he caught himself admiring her, although to a lesser degree of distraction.

“I can feel them...” Vicrul muttered, swiveling one way and then the other.

Kylo nodded. “I can, too. Rey?”

But she was still, and perfectly silent. Predators, much less predators so efficient as she, didn’t waste breath or tactical advantage by conferring with their fellows. Ben smiled.

Blaster fire erupted from their right, the flashes of it disorienting in the already intermittent light. But none of the Grey Alliance party faltered; Trudgen and Cardo charged into enemy lines, even as Vicrul carved more deliberately into the exposed edges of their ranks.

Rey had vanished entirely, at least as far as sight was concerned. But Ben tracked her through the Force, as sure as if she’d had a tracer beacon on her. He sensed as she moved deeper into the wide hallway, under cover of the battle, and he knew what she was after before they’d given the slightest hint of their positioning.

Kylo Ren whirled, grabbing the shaft of an electrostaff just as it ignited. Through superior, Force-augmented strength, he wrenched the surprised death trooper off-balance. A sizzling bolt from the blaster in his other hand shattered the black helmet at such close range, and Ben recoiled from the explosion of shrapnel and flesh. The body dropped, and Kylo was left hefting the electrostaff experimentally.

The familiar snap- _hum_ drew his attention, and his gaze locked immediately on Rey. She was illuminated now not only by dancing, intermittent firelight, but by the glowing red of a humming lightsaber; the sight took Ben’s breath away as she impaled a death trooper through the chest. She kicked the corpse away, spinning to take on another two attacking from the other side.

 _A little help?_ came a nudge through the Force—not desperate, but perhaps slightly exasperated.

Ben, more than thrilled to oblige, dropped the elecrostaff in favor of seizing the cool, cylindrical weapon that hung at his hip. It’s blue light cast a haze over his vision when he ignited it, and he felt the effects almost like a tranquilizer. His limbs felt lighter, but his mind cleared; the adrenaline-high of battle eased, but was replaced by the euphoria of pure physical exertion. He felt Luke’s calm mastery of the Light in his blade, but he also felt Anakin’s love-fueled torment and fall to the Dark; most of all, he felt _Rey_ in the blade’s luminous energy, and his very soul resonated with it as he leaped into battle beside her.

The death troopers, elite warriors, brought to mind Snoke’s guards; Snoke’s red throne room aboard the Supremacy. Back to back Rey and Ben fought, two halves of one master warrior, red and blue flashing in perfect, unspoken synchronicity. The lines blurred between their very consciousnesses—Ben parried a blow with Rey’s crimson blade, and Rey ducked an attack aimed for Ben’s head. They struck, felling first one trooper and then another, and only two remained. The flickering shadows should have impaired their sight, but the Dark only aided them. The glowing sabers should have been blinding amid the dim, but the Light fought with them.

The dyad struck, two as one, and then only a single opponent remained.

The death trooper, desperate now, took a suicidal lunge; neither Rey nor Ben had been expecting that, and the trooper’s bladed weapon grazed Rey’s collarbone as she lurched away. Then Kylo Ren was upon the unfortunate trooper, and blood sprayed as the blue of his lightsaber vanished, the weapon buried to its hilt beneath the trooper’s armor. There was a flash of cerulean as he pulled it free, splitting the death trooper’s rib cage open as he did so, and then his blade was extinguished.

He turned. "Rey—" 

“That was brilliant,” she cut him off, stretching up to kiss him, and the red of her lightsaber winked out. He met her eagerly, automatically, his momentary fright forgotten. “We should get to stretch our legs more often.”

Ben mumbled a half-hearted agreement, wrapping his arms around her and deepening the kiss. Only a quiet _ahem_ from behind him made them part.

“Found this sleemo trying to sneak out a back hallway,” Trudgen said, holding up a furious—and blatantly terrified—Enric Pryde by the back of the neck. “We think he’s the last one.”

Ben lit up, his grin almost childish. “Hux will _love_ that we got him alive! I’ll bet I can get him to beg me on his knees for custody.”

“Let him have it,” Rey said, nuzzling sideways into Ben’s chest. “Even Hux deserves a present, now and then. He’s been very helpful.”

“Then we’ll wrap this rubbish up with silk ribbon and present him to our loyal General, bound and gagged.” Kylo kissed the top of Rey’s head. “If that’s what the galaxy’s Grey Queen commands.”

... ... ...

Negotiations with Balamak’s native government were swift— Enric Pryde, as it turned out, had been nothing but a nuisance since he’d come to hide in their forest, and Balamak’s people were ready to embrace peace with the Grey Alliance.

Weary from the day, Rey had left the diplomacy to General Organa. Kylo had gone off to present Hux with their capture, and Rey sent her regards along with him. She then wasted no time in taking a long, indulgent shower and then burrowing into her blankets, relishing the cool feeling of the crisp sheets against her freshly-scrubbed skin. The privacy of her own room was a tremendous relief—after having the AT-AT to herself for so long, surrounded by utterly neighbor-less desert on all sides, the communal quarters of the Resistance had taxed her nerves. She’d grown to like being in the company of others, but sleeping in their presence? It felt intolerably vulnerable, and cramped besides. She snuggled deeper into the plush mattress, settling on her side.

Where she had been alone a moment before, a broad arm draped gently over her, and Rey huffed.

“For just a second there, right the end... I was scared, today...” Ben murmured into her hair, although clearly hesitant to draw her closer. “I couldn’t stand it... if...”

“I was fine,” Rey muttered.

“I know,” he said, quickly. “I know you can handle yourself, I just...”

It was nice to be worried about, Rey admitted to herself, though she’d never say such a thing aloud. Instead, she shuffled so her back was pressed against him, and felt him shudder with pleasure.

“I love you,” he said, and kissed the back of her neck. “Rey, I...”

“Hush...” she breathed, but allowed him to continue his affections. One large hand worked at the tense muscles in her shoulders and along her spine, easing the ache there, while he kissed her neck again and again. She relaxed into him, wondering if she should try to somehow return the favor. But he never minded giving this one-sided sort of affection, and she knew his turn would roll around sooner or later, anyway.

“I love you...” he breathed, and said it again. “I love you...”

The words seemed strange to Rey, when she contemplated saying them back. She knew Ben meant them, but she couldn’t imagine them sounding so sincere in her own voice. So she trusted their connection through the Force to convey her emotions. She flooded their bond with her feelings, and from his pleased crooning her got the message.

As much as Rey enjoyed the luxury of a private room, she didn’t mind sacrificing a bit of that lovely solitude for one person. Ben Solo could come and go as he pleaded, just as she entered his room—and his bed—at her own will.

“Be with me...” he whispered.

“I am with you,” she replied, and snuggled deeper into his warm, solid body. In the morning, she’d wake alone, comfortable in her own lonesome bed. But for the time being she slept beside Ben Solo, her other half, and she was content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I can't wait to share the third and final chapter with you; it'll be posted on the 20th~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! This little AU was such fun, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have half a mind to do something more with it in the future, but we shall see. 
> 
> For the time being, and without further ado, here's the final chapter~

Naboo was _lush_. Rey didn’t think she’d ever get over the sheer greenery of it, though all she had to do to see it was gaze out her own bedroom window. They’d lived there for half a year; nearly two had passed since they’d first fought together aboard the Supremacy. The Grey Alliance was the undisputed authority in the galaxy, and the galaxy had prospered for that fact.

_Come back, Sweetheart..._

He didn’t bother with words—it was a thought, a feeling sent across the Force that she understood as words. She glanced back at the bed, smiling at the unmoving lump of a body sprawled under the blankets. One of his hands dangled off the edge.

One of these days, Rey thought, she might learn to sleep in. Or maybe she’d make an early riser of Ben Solo yet.

 _Coming,_ she sent, and slipped back to the bed. She crawled under the covers, and he moved, clumsy with sleep, to drag her close. He burrowed past her hair to kiss her neck, and she chuckled. She knotted her fingers in his dark locks, pulling his head back for a proper kiss.

One large hand cupping the small of her back, Ben rolled over; Rey settled obligingly on his chest, her lips still greedy on his, her thighs pressing in around his middle. He mumbled something soft and adoring, and then pushed her gently back so he could catch his breath. His brown eyes glowed with pleasure in the morning dim, and he smiled.

"I love you..." he breathed, reaching up to stroke her cheek. She kissed him again, lightly.

“C’mon, lover. Time to get up. We’ve got an important guest coming today, remember,” Rey said, and Ben stiffened beneath her. He groaned, closing his eyes tightly. Rey nuzzled under his jaw, then kissed it. “Don’t be like that. It was going to happen eventually.”

“I’d just as soon he died without ever leaving that damn island...” Ben grumbled.

“We’ve got no reason to meet him with anything but heads held high,” Rey said, nipping along his jawline. “We rebuilt the galaxy. _We_ did that. Without his precious Jedi Way. Without invoking the mighty Skywalker name.”

Ben groaned again, half-heartedly pushing her away.

“Your mom is really excited,” Rey added, between kisses. “She’s happy. So don’t wreck this.”

“You fight dirty...” Ben muttered, shoving her off and then hauling himself out of bed. “Stars, it’s too early for this...”

“Sunrise was hours ago, you baby.”

“It’s too early for this,” Ben repeated stubbornly, dragging his fingers through his hair. While he stumbled off to he washroom, Rey sat up in bed and considered. Part of her wanted to make every effort for the sake of their visitor, just to prove a point, but part of her wanted to spare him no ceremony or even courtesy. He wasn’t worth tea and biscuits.

_Biscuits._

Rey’s stomach growled, and she hopped cheerfully up. Although Ben never had gotten the taste for caf, she put a pot on to boil—she enjoyed a hot cup of the stuff first thing, and he’d suffer it if she added enough cream and sugar to his. It helped to wake him up, even if he wasn’t fond of the taste. She fetched down pans from her small kitchen cupboard, then set to fixing eggs and thin-cut, fried potatoes. While they cooked, she sliced shuura fruit and plums.

Simple cooking was a daily pleasure, for Rey. She’d always allocated a certain amount of time for the preparation of her portions, and she did so now as well. Yet, if the mood struck her, she could indulged in lavish recipes that took hours and sometimes days. Ben also cooked, although his approach was considerably less all-or-nothing; he’d devote an hour or two to a nice dinner quite often, and Rey adored him for it.

Breakfast was waiting when Ben emerged, freshly showered and clad only in a bathrobe. Rey glanced up from the table, mouth half-full, and grinned at him. Ben blinked, unsure if the expression was one of lust or simple greeting—either way, he was glad of it.

“Get over here and eat before it gets cold,” she said, and he thought he had his answer. As he sat down, though, a wave of what was _definitely_ lust surged through their Bond, and Ben realized she’d really meant, _Eat your food while you’ve got the chance, before I jump you._

He knew that was no bluff, and hurried to eat.

As soon as Rey had finished her plate, Ben's time was all manners of up. He tried to scramble out of the kitchen, aware that he’d have no chance of getting ready if Rey caught him, but he made easy prey for the agile scavenger. She flung herself onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and unbothered when he, pitched off-balance, stumbled to the ground beneath her.

“Important guest, remember?” he wheezed, even as she nipped at his ear. She smelled strongly of their breakfast.

“The great Jedi Master can wait...” Rey whispered, and she released his neck in favor of peeling the robe down. She kissed his freckled shoulders until he was trembling with repressed laughter, then slid the cloth down lower over his back. Knees fixed on either side of his hips, she used the Force to hold him down and dug her fingers into the ticklish spots beneath his broad rib cage. He choked, spluttering, and then tried to scrabble away; she held firm as he struggled, gasping out pleas for mercy between strangled laughter.

Employing the Force for his own defense, Ben managed to unbalance her; they rolled, then, Rey squeaking with delight as they wrestled across the living room floor. Ben’s robe tangled around him, limiting his movements, and soon Rey sat atop him once again, this time gazing down at his beautiful, flushed face as he tried to regain his breath. She ran her hands down his exposed chest, greedy for the skin-on-skin contact, and dipped her head to kiss his breastbone.

The doorbell rang.

Ben sat up, startling Rey and knocking her backwards. “Oh Stars, that’s my _mother_...!” he swore, and then scooped Rey up with him as he got to his feet. She, placated, wrapped her arms around his neck as he whisked off to the bedroom.

“Shouldn’t I go stall?” she asked, although making no attempt to be put down. He gave her a critical sideways look, mentally indicating her pajamas and uncombed hair. “Please. Your mom doesn’t stand that much on ceremony, at least not when she isn’t in her general’s role. And I’m in better shape than _you_.”

Ben had to admit the truth in that, and did, without speaking it aloud. He set Rey gently on her feet, then vanished into the washroom with an angry muttering. Smiling, Rey went to the door.

Leia Organa was dressed nicely, though not overly formally. Her off-white Alderaanian gown brushed the ground, collecting dust on the hem; her hair was done up in traditional braids. Retirement had eased the more severe creases around her eyes, and she looked strong and well. She greeted Rey with a warm embrace, then gave her a more critical look.

“Ben’s getting ready,” Rey said.

“And I suppose you plan to meet Luke just like this?” Leia asked, fingering a tangled lock of Rey’s brown hair.

“I saw my great Jedi Master show off way worse hygiene on Ahch-To,” Rey scoffed.

Leia grimaced, then allowed Rey to usher her inside. Rey offered leftover breakfast—not the most socially laudable thing, but a generous offer from a former Jakku scavenger.

“Don’t bother fussing too much,” Leia said, seeming to sense Rey’s worries. “Not only will my brother not really APPRECIATE it, he’s not worth it.”

In a rush, feeling secure in the admission, Rey said, “I just want him to see that we’re doing well. That we’ve got a life together. A good one.”

Leia smiled; touched her cheek. “Rey. You’ve brought peace and restored balance to the galaxy. He might not love admitting it, but he’ll see it sure as anything.”

Ben emerged, then, dressed in a soft grey robe over a dark shirt and slacks. His hair was done up in Alderaanian-style braids, and Rey might’ve mocked him for going overboard if not for how breathtakingly handsome he appeared. Leia’s expression softened with tenderness and pride.

“Ben.” She moved to embrace him, and he met her willingly. They held one another, tightly, and then she ran her hand along one section of braiding. “You got it right this time.”

“Thanks, mom...” he mumbled, placing his hand over hers. Rey, watching, remembered a time when he’d cringe away from such casual touch. She’d seen, in his memories and through the Force, that Snoke had often touched him like this—a mockery of parental, apparent kindness masking the toxins beneath. Her heart swelled, seeing him able to accept such things without echoes of pain or raised defenses.

Quietly, Rey slipped off to prepare, as well. She almost wished that Ben had been content to meet their visitor in his bath robe, so that she would have an excuse to do the same, but as it was she decided to live up to the standard he’d set. After all, the most important thing for Luke Skywalker to see was their unity, and combing her hair was the least she could do to that end.

Rey stripped down, observing old scars in the mirror. But most of the callouses and patches of weather-rough skin were gone, replaced by supple skin and a healthy, hydrated glow. She did up her hair first, fingers moving automatically to tie it in her favorite three-knotted style. But she hesitated, letting it tumble back about her shoulders a moment later.

She’d kept her hair up, on Ahch-To, like a sensible Jedi apprentice. Let her old master see it down, like an empress might wear it.

Rey selected a dress that Leia had brought her from a visit to New Alderaan, inspired by traditional fashion and yet lacking any actual antique status. It was a storm-cloud grey, layered with a long handkerchief skirt and a panel reminiscent of armor plating that lay over one shoulder. After a moment of consideration—and remembering that she’d noticed that Ben had done the same—she clipped a lightsaber at her hip. It’s weight was familiar, and she smiled at her reflection.

“... I hear Generals Poe and Finn Dameron were successful in funding a whole new stormtrooper rehabilitation center," Leia was saying, seated beside Ben on the couch. Rey noted that Ben had brought out a pot of tea, mother and son strikingly similar in their posture; in the way they sipped tea like the Alderaanian royalty they were. "I'll bet they're a lot happier, now that most of the fighting is behind us and they can focus their energy on things like that."

Ben nodded. "We've been trying to arrange a visit with them, but things have been so busy. Soon, for sure."

"Have you heard anything from that Armitage Hux?" Leia asked, and Ben shook his head—a lie, Rey knew, but a forgivable one.

After the fighting had ended, General Hux had taken the pardon offered to him by the Grey Alliance and vanished. Rey knew he and Ben exchanged letters regularly; she'd been wary when she'd first discovered their correspondence, but had since determined it was of no concern. They spoke rather like old men reminiscing about a war of long-ago. There was also the understanding between them, Rey had realized, that once-General Hux remained on-call, should Kylo Ren summon him. Whether or not he'd heed such a summons remained to be seen, but contact was maintained nonetheless.

"And how's that scruffy lot of yours?" Leia asked. "The Knights of Ren?"

Ben brightened. "They're here with us, on-planet. They're still our guard, whenever we need that sort of thing. Civilian life isn't for them, but Ren doesn’t need outright war to thrive, either."

"Trudgen likes going to second-hand markets. He drags me along, sometimes," Rey put in, and they both looked over. “Kuruk and I keep each other’s piloting skills sharp, too.”

Ben stood, almost stumbling with the motion, and Rey felt a wave of adoration from him across their Bond.

"You look lovely, my dear," Leia said, moving to meet her; brushing a stray lock of silken hair behind Rey's ear. "Every bit the queen."

“Thank you,” Rey replied, surprised by how the affection warmed her. Though _queen_ would never be a word that came to mind, when she thought of herself, she'd come to take a certain pleasure when others used it. She knew Ben certainly approved. 

Ben looked sharply toward the door; Rey, too, sensed that their visitor had arrived, and followed his gaze. For a tenuous moment, it seemed like he might lurk outside for some time, but then the Jedi Master announced himself with the most mundane of knocks. When neither Grey Alliance leader moved toward the door, Leia stepped forward; opened it, and revealed the grizzled old visitor. 

"Luke." Leia's smile held a hint of bitterness, and her voice was weary. But her happiness also shone through, brilliant and genuine, and she embraced him.

"Leia. Sorry I've been gone." He said it far too easily, considering the weight of the words. 

Leia raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sorry? Sorry doesn't begin to cover it, and being _gone_ is far from the only thing you've got to apologize for."

Luke chuckled, suddenly looking uncomfortable in his well-worn Jedi robes. "I missed your... honesty."

"I'll bet you did," Leia replied, and then stepped aside. "C'mon, then. Let's get to a couple of those apologies."

Rey and Ben stood, side by side, projecting peace and balance in the Force as they met their old master. The air grew suddenly thick as everyone reached out, minds and energies brushing as three Force-users tried to get a read on one another.

Leia, with a put-upon sigh, said, "Reintroduce yourselves. Rey, I'll go grab those biscuits."

Leia made it through the kitchen doorway before she heard the _snap-huuum_ of a lightsaber activating, and she shook her head ruefully.

"Should've known..." she muttered, even as she continued on. "Well, if they don't work it out by the time I make it back with biscuits, then we'll just see..."

... ... ...

The Force all but crackled with tension and unspoken words; neither Ben nor Rey looked away from their failed master, heads held high, and he stared right back.

Luke Skywalker drew a lightsaber in one smooth, well-practiced motion, bathing his weathered face in the blue glow.

"Turned your back on the old ways, have you?" he asked, his voice low and steady. "There are no more Sith, and I'm the last Jedi. So be done with me, if you can."

Ben scarcely managed a startled noise before Rey, hot indignation rising in her, drew her own blade. The sizzling crimson made Luke's eyes, first narrowed in scrutiny, go wide and wild. With a cry, Rey flung herself at the old Jedi Master, and he brought up his lightsaber just in time to block what was almost certainly meant to be a killing strike.

 _Rey!_ Ben called out through the Force, but she was off—in a whirl of red and blue, she and Luke danced across the living room, neither giving ground. Rey's anger was palpable, but so too were her righteousness, pride, and near-overpowering love. Luke met her with only the calm, focused energy that the Jedi preached, although his expression betrayed conflict. Ben actually took a step back, buffeted in the Force by the clash of their wills. His hand closed around the lightsaber at his hip, though he didn't yet draw it.

"Eh, let them be." Leia's voice made him jump, and he whirled. His mother stood beside him, trey of biscuits in-hand and exasperated gaze on the two combatants. "Skywalker men, they sometimes need to... work out their more _murderous_ tendencies before they can be reasoned with."

Ben blinked, then frowned at the inference; he let his fingers uncurl from around his weapon, but didn't relax. He flinched when both lightsabers shredded through a tapestry on the wall; when Leia spared him a questioning glance, he said, "That was from Alderaan, hundreds of years old— _you_ gave it to us!"

Leia shrugged. "I didn't expect it to last much longer. Not in this household."

Luke thrust out a hand, shoving Rey hard with the Force; she flew backwards, smashing into a wall, and then rolled to the side to avoid his next slash. Dust-colored Jedi robes seemed like they might tangle with the grey of her dress as the two of them fought, trading blows at hazardously close quarters, and then they sprang apart.

"What should I do?" Ben asked softly, and then glanced at his mother. "Why is Master Luke doing this?"

"Why does my brother do _anything_?" Leia sighed, and then shook her head. "He's contradictions layered upon more contradictions, and he's certainly no model Jedi. But if he chooses to fight, you'd best know its for something he believes is worth it."

"Then he really doesn't see what we've accomplished?" For a moment, there was anger and hurt; Ben shivered with the feelings, the caress of Dark Side power.

But Leia shook her head. "It's not that he doesn't see. It's that he wants to see _for himself_."

Ben narrowed his eyes, then drew a sharp breath as he understood. Wordlessly, he took his lightsaber from his hip and ignited it. Leia nodded.

"Show him," she whispered, and Ben leaped towards the fight.

 _Ben?_ Rey questioned though the Force, sensing his approach. He sent her a calming reassurance; she responded in kind. She understood his intent, then, without words, and he sensed her resolve.

Luke caught the exchange, whirling in time to block Ben's blue lightsaber with his own. His gaze flashed with honest surprise, recognizing the blade and feeling its history like a menagerie of ghosts crowding in around him. He twisted, Force-shoving Rey again; this time she only slipped a meter or so back, no further than she allowed herself to be pushed. She raised her hand, even as panic edged its way into Luke's otherwise hard-set countenance.

The Force swirled, a vortex summoned only semi-consciously by the dyad, and Luke found himself trapped between them. Though he kept his lightsaber up, Ben raised his other hand and pressed Luke back with the Force. The Jedi looked wildly from one to the other, enveloped by Light and Dark and utterly unable to free himself from the maelstrom.

Ben's breathing slowed, steadying, and Rey's synchronized with it from across the room.

"The old ways, the Jedi and the Sith, would've never brought about balance," Rey said, "only an endless cycle of conflict and war, one side always struggling against the other."

"And I suppose you kids found a better way?" Luke huffed, fighting to stay on his feet despite immense—and increasing—pressure. His knees quivered, and he felt his age in the joints. "Simple arrogance, that's all that is."

"You're wrong," Ben said, and his voice held no anger. "The Light and the Dark aren't enemies, not now. They're _one_ , and you can't fight us. Not now."

Luke's lightsaber fizzled, extinguished by the Force all around him. Blue glowed in one corner of his vision, and red in the other; for a moment, even as he went to his knees, the sight seemed almost transcendent. And then the Force dissipated, leaving Luke gasping for breath as he collapsed onto his hands.

Ben crossed swiftly to Rey, even as she tucked her lightsaber away. He placed a hand on her shoulder, kissed her temple, and inquired silently whether she was hurt. She assured him she wasn't; kissed his lips, and then moved around him to face Luke. The old Jedi Master hadn't risen, but he'd folded his legs beneath him as if planning to meditate.

"We're a dyad in the Force," she said. "Two as one. We embody balance."

"I can see that," Luke said dryly. "I couldn't pick out the Light from the Dark in that last assault. Never seen anything like it."

"You can't kill us, not now," Ben said, and Luke—the _audacity_ —actually chuckled.

"I'm sure I couldn't. But that's a little beside the point, by now."

"You know," Leia said, coming to stand just behind her brother; he craned his neck to look up at her, "a stunt like this doesn't take the place of a heartfelt apology."

Luke's expression soured, but he still heaved himself to his feet with an exaggerated effort. Then he squared his shoulders, met Ben's gaze head-on, and said, "Sorry, kid. I failed. I should've sensed Snoke, or at least tried talking to you before... well, before I did what I did. I'm sorry." He turned to Rey, and continued: "You were right, and you deserved a better master than me. I’ve gotta remind you, I _did_ try to turn you away, but I'm still sorry for... how things turned out."

Rey and Ben exchanged a glance; it was Rey who asked, "That's the best you can do?" right as Ben said, "Apology not accepted, Master."

Leia stifled a snort of amusement as Luke's expression cycled through confusion, dismay, outrage, and then finally settled on hurt. "You two—!"

"Take what you can get," Leia said, not unkindly, and placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. “Oh, and hand over my lightsaber. I don’t know _what_ possessed you to think I’d be pleased seeing it used like this.”

Luke drew a breath, then let it out. He relinquished the saber to Leia. "Fine. Fine! Did you ask me here just for that? To make a proper _mockery_ of the last Jedi before he gives up the ghost?"

Rey and Ben looked at each other again, and then Rey said, "We wanted to invite you to the wedding, Master Skywalker," in such a tone that her sincerity _had_ to be doubted.

Luke blinked, caught off-guard. "Wedding?" he echoed, derisive. "What kind of joke—?”

"They mean it," Leia cut in. "And it really was their idea to invite you, not mine."

Then Luke was fumbling, unsure, and Rey almost laughed. "Don't worry,” she said. “We're not asking you to participate in the ceremony, or anything. Just thought you might appreciate an invite."

"Of course not..." Luke mumbled, and then turned to Leia. "You really _approve_ of this?"

"Rey asked for my blessing, and I gave it," Leia replied.

"Wait, _she_ proposed to _you_?" Luke asked Ben incredulously, and the tips of Ben's ears flushed red.

"I couldn't very well wait for him to ask," Rey said reasonably. 

Luke threw up his hands. "You're all mad. Mad!"

"Just sit down. Take your tea and biscuits like a civilized man, and say congratulations," Leia said, her voice leaving little room for argument. With a soft tutting, she fixed Rey's ruffled hair; Rey fell still, eyes closing, and allowed Leia’s motherly fussing.

"... Congratulations," Luke mumbled, and shuffled back to the couch to suffer the pleasantries of civilization.

... ... ...

Naboo had splendid sunsets, especially in late fall. The events of each day were burned away; everything turned auburn as though cast in firelight.

Ben wrapped one powerful arm around Rey's waist, in their sunset-tinted bedroom, and she gave a soft shriek of objection as he flopped backwards onto their bed. She wriggled, but he held her fast, other limbs splayed out around him.

"That was _something_..." he breathed, even as Rey managed to struggle free; she flopped onto the bed beside him. He turned his head to look over at her, and she kissed him without preamble. Although surprised, he returned the affection, one hand moving to cup the back of her head.

"The look on his face was worth it," she murmured, and Ben gave a huffing laugh.

"Which one?"

"All of them. Priceless."

Ben chuckled, then pressed his forehead to hers. "Thank you."

"For what?"

“All of it,” Ben breathed, suddenly serious. He kissed her, body pressing against hers; warmth and love flooded their Bond, swamping senses and eclipsing thoughts. "For taking my hand, back then, especially. Things would've been... so different, if..."

"Yeah." Rey sought his hand now, and tangled their fingers. "But you were the one who _offered_ me your hand. All I did was say yes."

"But you _came_ for me," Ben argued, his voice choked now. "Rey, you..."

"I love you," she whispered, and then kissed him sweetly.

He smiled against her mouth; said, “I love you,” or perhaps didn’t say it, perhaps only thought it so loudly that she couldn’t fail to hear it.

Entangled, they lay in the bed they shared, galaxies of stars above and the rich Naboo soil below. Entangled, they loved, the Light and Dark no longer distinguishable amid beautiful grey.


End file.
